


Holidays

by TrashyDumpster



Category: The Simpsons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 03:44:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13227411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashyDumpster/pseuds/TrashyDumpster
Summary: A surprise phone call from someone leads to stuff. That summary makes it sound like smut but I promise you it’s far from it.





	Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> SOOOO I haven’t written in 100 years and I started writing this on thanksgiving and finished it today. The timeline might be strange, it’s really up to interpretation. I really didn’t proofread it very well so I’m sorry for any mistakes. I read it over once and fixed what I caught but I know I missed some.  
> Anyway, here goes nothing

  
November 23rd  
A table set for one, wine poured in a portion big enough for three. That was how most nights went for Edna, and it looked like Thanksgiving was no exception. There was no party, no gathering with her family. Her sister was out of town, who knows where, and the rest of her family? They couldn’t be bothered to check in on lonely, cynical Edna. Truth be told, that was fine with her. The only person she had really been close to was her sister. It seemed like every good relationship she had ended somehow or another, leaving her alone. Although, maybe tonight could be an exception after all.

  
Before the idea was even fully formed, Edna was reaching for the phone and dialing an all-too-familiar number. One that she hated to admit she still had memorized.

……

  
Seymour Skinner had finished dinner over an hour ago and had started washing dishes when the phone rang. His mother had wanted to eat early so she could go to bed, and as he made his way to the phone he heard her snores from upstairs.

  
“Hello, Skinner residence.” He answered the phone gingerly, not wanting to wake his mother.

  
There was a pause of the other end of the line, as if the caller hadn’t thought this far. He heard a heavy sigh and then a deep breath in. Funny, he thought he recognized that characteristic sigh. But no, it couldn’t be-

  
“Seymour, it’s Edna. Do you want to come over for Thanksgiving dinner?”

  
“Of course,” he answered automatically, cringing at himself for answering so fast, “When?” He added more calmly.

  
“Right now.”

  
She sounded relieved, urgent even, Seymour noticed. Like she was expecting him to say no and was almost too happy that he didn’t.

  
“I’ll be right over.” He said, trying to sound as casual as possible. This wasn’t a big deal at all.

  
“Before you hang up,” Edna began, “I just want you to know that it’s nothing special. Don’t dress up or anything.”  
Looking down at his old sweater and jeans he said, “I don’t think I’m too dressed up.”

  
“Yeah, well I’m in my bathrobe. I told you it’s nothing special.” She said shortly. He heard her signature laugh muffled on the other end on the line.

  
“Yes, well, I always thought you looked good in a bathrobe.” He joked, laughing lightly.

  
“Just get over here before I uninvite you.” Her tone was devoid of humor and he heard the line click almost as soon as she finished talking. There was the Edna he knew.

  
He grabbed his car keys and a jacket and headed outside. His mother was still asleep and would be fine on her own for a few hours.

……

  
Edna stood, staring at her phone for what felt like an hour after she hung up. Did she really just do that? Did she really just call the person she had broken up with?She did. She really did.

  
She shook her head to clear her thoughts and went into the tiny kitchen. She had cooked, or at least attempted to cook, an actual dinner for herself. It didn’t turn out as bad as it could have, and she was proud of that. So what if the turkey was dry and the mashed potatoes were oddly chunky, she had food. And now she had someone to share it with.

  
She heard a knock at the door as she was finishing changing her table for one setting into a table for two.

  
“It’s open.” She called from the tiny dining area. The sound of the door opening echoed through the otherwise quiet residence.

  
Seymour made his entrance holding up a bottle of wine and smiling cautiously. “I stopped for this on my way over.” He said, waving the bottle around.

  
“Thanks, but you should have known I already had the drinks covered.” Edna replied, “I’ll take it anyway,” she added as she grabbed the bottle from him.

  
“This looks nice,” Seymour noted. He sat down at the small table and watched as Edna took the bottle to the kitchen counter.

  
“It’s nothing fancy,” she said, waving her hand dismissively as she returned to the table, “I wasn’t planning on having company.”

  
“What made you change you mind?” Seymour asked, almost teasingly.

  
“I really just didn’t feel like being by myself,” Edna answered flatly, “so I called someone who’s company I would enjoy.”

  
“You enjoy my company?” Seymour asked, surprise creeping into his tone, “Still after everything?”

  
“Of course,” she answered without hesitation, “I trust you, I can talk with you. I’m comfortable around you.”

  
Seymour caught himself wondering if Edna had been drinking before he got there. She was oftentimes blunt and honest, but rarely did she so openly share how she felt.

  
“Well, to good company then.” He said, raising a glass.

  
“Too good company.” Edna repeated, raising her own.

  
Dinner was filled with pleasant, friendly conversation, and when it was over they moved into the living room to watch a movie. As the night wore on, Seymour found himself wishing that she would ask him to stay. But she didn’t, and after the movie ended he left her apartment, the credits still scrolling down the television.

  
December 24th  
Christmas Eve went similarly. Seymour and his mother had already eaten an early dinner when he got her call. He made his way over to Edna’s apartment, stopping for wine along the way.

  
When he arrived, the tiny table was set for two and the wine glasses were already full. Again, Edna made a snarky comment about him bringing a bottle. But she took it from him nonetheless. Conversation was effortless between the two of them, flowing easily from topic to topic. After dinner more wine was poured and they moved into the living room to watch old Christmas movie reruns on TV. Seymour told himself not to get his hopes up, he’d probably he going home after they’d finished watching The Grinch.

  
“You know, I’m not really doing anything for Christmas,” Edna remarked as the movie faded into a commercial break.

  
“I’m making dinner for mother.” Seymour said. They were both sitting on her couch, but far enough apart that they weren’t touching.

  
She turned to look at him, “If you’re only making a dinner, I guess you won’t be busy tomorrow morning.”

  
“Well I was planning on maybe baking some cookies….” Seymour began. Whatever subtle innuendo she had attempted went right over his head.

  
“You’re impossible,” Edna interjected, “I was trying to ask you if you wanted to stay tonight.”

  
“Well of course,” Seymour tried to recover smoothly, “that would be nice.”

  
And so he stayed to wish Edna a merry Christmas in the morning.

  
December 31st  
This time, they made plans. She called him a few days in advance, after the Christmas rush had settled down, and invited him over for New Years. Of course Seymour accepted the invitation. The fact that she had thought to call ahead and make plans for this holiday made him happier than he cared to admit. There was still the same small table set for two, and the same excessive amount of wine. But this time, Seymour had volunteered to bring food. Edna, who didn’t like cooking if she was completely honest, had no objection.

  
“This is much better then anything I could have tried.” She remarked during dinner.

  
“At least you try.” Seymour countered lightheartedly.

  
Dinner went on as it had previously. They had no issue with conversation, and when it did fall quiet it wasn’t awkward. They enjoyed the peaceful presence of each other.

  
The after dinner activities followed the same routine. Except this time, before they migrated to the living room, they cleared the table to do the dishes. He volunteered to wash and she dried, working together almost perfectly in sync.

  
Only after everything in the kitchen was cleaned up did they start watching the New Years news programs. This time they sat closer together, their shoulders brushing slightly, and their legs almost touching. And when midnight rolled around, they both had a New Years’ kiss.


End file.
